


Her Blood

by princelogical



Category: Original Work
Genre: Flash Fic, Gen, Sisters, Violence, mentions of cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 19:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10748190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princelogical/pseuds/princelogical
Summary: It does not matter the colour of blood spilt, but the reason for which it was spilt.





	Her Blood

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my creative writing class. Ehem.

The sound of gunshots had become a normal sound to my ears, ignoring my displeasure. My breath shuddered as I plastered myself against the garden wall, tucking myself behind the grand water fountain as best as I could. The maniacal laughter from the gunman roared even louder as the gunshots slowed.

“Callie, oh Callie!” she shrieked. My blood froze at my name slipping past her lips. It felt close to an accusation, announcing my crimes to the dead all around me. “Where are you? I wanna _talk_!”

I swallowed, going over my options. She’d find me eventually… inevitably. Slowly, I pushed myself from behind the water fountain, hands held in the air. My eyes met those of the gunman and my blood froze.

“Why were you hiding from me, Callie?” she pouted. The revolver, seemingly so small clutched in her hands, had done so much damage. Bodies lay across the gravel of the once beautiful garden. My hands ached from their place in the air, as if even God was silently punishing me. “Are you scared of me?”

“No,” I choked out. “I’m not, Olivia.” I once said the name a vast amount of times in my life. Now, uttering my sister’s name felt like a sentence of some sort- one leading unto a harsh reality I didn’t want to be a part of.

She pushed the gun to her curls and grinned wickedly. “Missed ya… Tell your boy toy hi for me, yeah?” She pulled the trigger.

I rushed forward. Red painted the sidewalks, a vision of guts with no glory. The colour of her blood was the least of my worries, for the only thing I could think of was her. How many times I’d wronged her. Memories taunted my brain and the lust for her husband that once drove me, disgusted me. It was my fault my sister went insane.

I picked up the revolver and placed it to my own head. Upon pulling the trigger, I was met with a sickening silence. Sirens wailed in the distance, but I could not hear them, for the wailing from my own mouth drowned out every sound around me.


End file.
